I retreated into comfort knitting: baby sweaters. This is my second monthly sweater to donate to the maternity ward. Some of these sweaters will be given to moms in need and some will be used for grieving parents. However they choose to use them, I am satisfied that I have made a gesture. I am incredibly lucky to have two healthy (and kicking) children.
This pattern is the one my own mom made for me to come home from the hospital. I also made it for each of my children to come home. It's from an old Beehive book and has a bonnet and booties, but I'm not so keen on making those. With the donations of yarn, people also give me their inherited knitting patterns and I now have 3 of these books, just like my Grandmother's.
Scotty came home from school and insisted on making sourdough starter. Fine with me. It's sitting on top of the fridge gurgling already. He loves sourdough bread and has taken a whim to make it himself.
Yesterday I made my 4th not so successful brown bread in the bread machine. I know mine committed suicide by jumping off the counter years ago and my MIL gave me hers. But I don't remember striking out so badly in the past. I'll give it a few more tries to keep the bread from rising all the way out of the machine. I'll be happy to just use our locally milled organic whole wheat flour, rather than "best for bread" if that's what it takes.
Do you believe in coincidences? I'm not sure I do. I think there's more to serendipity than just entropy.
Yesterday I also posted a picture of a snowdrop shoot and a haiku. It was actually St. Brigette's day and there is a movement to post poetry. The last two years I have enjoyed contributing and reading others poetry. I am bouyed up that something in me needed to join again, even if not on purpose.
Maybe you read my poem, not on purpose, and joined in.
1 comment:
What a sweet tradition keeping that vintage pattern alive.
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